The American Airlines MD-80 jet I was on touched down at Lindbergh Field shortly after ten-thirty PM on October 19th 1995. The light bump and the short screech of frozen tires on the concrete quickly gave way to the thrust reversers’ roar and the plane’s de-acceleration. The fact that I had cheated death once again passed fleetingly through my mind. It and the relief I normally felt at returning to San Diego after a business trip were muted by the knowledge that on Sunday I would once again be on a plane like this heading back to the East Coast.

It was not the imminent travel that weighed heavily on my mind, though. Rather, it was concern over telling my wife Jeannean that I had to be in Washington DC the following Monday. She didn’t like me traveling. She tolerated it, but poorly. Traveling two weeks in a row was a cause for severe aggravation for her. This time it would be far worse. For weeks she had made clear to me that she wanted me home on her birthday — Monday, October 23rd, the day I had to be back in Washington DC for a critical project meeting.

As I left the plane, dragging my rolling suitcase along the terminal corridor, I didn’t pause at the pay phone to call her. Usually I did call her so as to shorten her worrying about my flight. Tonight it was late and she would likely be in bed and possibly asleep, as she had to go to work the next day. No, I just went to the shuttle stop for the ride to the parking garage.

Driving north on the freeway, I once again contemplated how to tell her the bad news. I had a strategy that I had used before. Wait for an opportune time, when she might be more accepting of the news. Break it to her gently. I would do that.

I arrived home at about 11:30 PM. The house was quiet. The normal family room and kitchen lights were on waiting for me. I scanned the mail on the counter, got a drink of water and eased my way upstairs to the bedroom. There I turned on a dim light to avoid disturbing her. She immediately awoke from her shallow waiting sleep and said her usual, “I’m glad you’re home.” That I expected. What came next I didn’t.